Flawless Desires
by HazeleyeandHermione
Summary: If there was one word to describe Roderich it would be... Beautiful. Francis saw that, but Roderich was already in a relationship with Gilbert. Yet, the Austrian seemed so... unhappy. Could Francis bring that lovely smile back? France X Austria and Prustria.
1. Chapter 1

Beautiful… that was really the only word to describe Roderich. Everything about him was flawless, his dark chocolate hair which was a perfect color to compliment his indigo eyes and his fair skin. Ahh… Seriously he's got a nice-looking face. Really nice looking, just his face is perfection. His long white fingers were pressing elegantly on the ivory piano keys, playing a rich and beautiful melody.

"Quell surprise… He's playing the piano as usual." Francis sighed. "That face… it's so handsome. If we were closer and he wasn't such a dick I'd make him a French territory in a heartbeat." He let out a sigh. "His face is so beautiful. I want to lick it. He has a certain je ne sais quoi about him. "

Roderich didn't notice Francis spying on him, watching every, elegant movement he made and absorbing each note forming the graceful, soothing tune he was playing.

The doorbell rang, and Roderich walked over to the door, his face slightly annoyed for someone had interrupted his playing. When he opened his door, that beautiful face lit up. Someone special was standing in the door step, he had silvery hair, although he was very young and his skin was almost the color of a freshly fallen snow. His eyes were like blood, with a hint of violet. This was Gilbert Beilschimdt, Roderich's significant other.

"What's up, Roderich? Did you miss the awesome me?" Gilbert smiled.

The Austrian responded by rolling those stunning, violet eyes. "You can be such an idiot sometimes, Gilbert. It hasn't been that long." Gilbert shrugged before pulling him into a deep kiss, smirking.

And _this _was proof that no matter what, the universe would have its ways of being a bitch and slapping him in the face. Every person he had fallen for had to be in love with someone else. He had fancied Arthur, but then he met Alfred. That dumb obnoxious American had stolen his Angleterre. Roderich steals his heart, but the Austrian is in a relationship with Francis's best friend. Even if they did split apart, Francis wouldn't do that to his friend. It wasn't right. Although he had noticed the spark in Roderich's eyes were missing, although he sounded like he was fine and most people thought he was happy at first glance, there was something more. The brunette was miserable, no matter how hard he tried to mask it; the Frenchman knew he wasn't content.

"Gilbert, as much as I love your visits," He started to say, his voice slightly strained. "I'm working on a piano piece, and I really want to return to it. Maybe we can do something else later?" _Empty suggestion, _Francis noted to himself, _how is Gilbert not noticing it?_

"You know you can't just sit here all day playing your fancy music!" Gilbert told him. "Why don't you get your ass off that piano bench for once and do something worthwhile!"

Roderich looked on the verge of tears. "This is well worth my time!" He yelled. "More than you are! Unlike you, music can properly express feelings, you obnoxious idiot! You narcissistic, cocky bastard… You can't say my music isn't worthwhile, it's my life." He seemed to calm himself down.

"Come on, Specs, I was just messing with you!" He smiled. "Although maybe you could drop the music for a little bit to spend a little time with your boyfriend." Once more, Roderich refused. Gilbert thought it was time to do something else; he took the sheet music Roderich had been using.

"Gilbert, I'm going to give you three seconds to give me my sheet music back." The Austrian warned him, frustration filling his voice, although he seemed to want to hold it back, and bottle it up.

"I'll give it back after we go out." He told him, a smirk spreading across his face. "You spend too much time on it, anyway. You don't even play goo—"

He didn't finish his sentence. It was a quick movement, although it left a bright red mark on Gilbert's otherwise pale skin. Francis didn't know what caused his friend to be so idiotic. No one touched Roderich's music. At least, if they valued their life they didn't. And they definitely did not insult the music he played. "Give me my sheet music back or else." He was shaking now.

"Come on! I'm just fooling around, stop being such a stick in the mud!" He ruffled Austria's dark brown hair and attempted to kiss him, only to have him turn away. "Is this about the sheet music? I'm sorry if I was being an ass." He rolled his red eyes and reluctantly took the crumpled up papers from his pocket and gave it to him. He gave his boyfriend a peck on the cheek and left.

Roderich sat on the floor, his head resting on his knees. Francis heard a few sobs coming from him. He wished he could come over to him, wipe the tears off of that pristine face, and see that smile he yearned to see. Roderich started to talk aloud.

"Is this what it feels like to fall out of love?" He asked himself, standing up and pacing. He sat on his piano bench, playing a slow, sad song that pulled at Francis's heartstrings from hearing him play. He had a way of expressing his emotions through music and setting the atmosphere through the notes he played.

Francis walked to the front door of the house and knocked on the door. The musician let out a sigh as he opened to the door. 'I told you, Gilbert, I don't feel like going any— Oh, Francis… I thought you were someone else."

"Are you okay, Roderich?" Francis asked, placing a hand under his chin. "You look like you've been crying."

"What?" Roderich's indigo eyes grew wide. "I haven't though." He was lying, Francis had seen him.

"Why do you try lying to me?" He smiled, moving his lips a bit closer to the Austrian's, so they were dangerously close, but not yet touching. "I know, Mon beau fleur, but what's wrong?" He asked, although the answer was apparent.

"Nothing really," Roderich replied, although seemed to rethink it. "Wait, Francis, you know about love, right?"

"Yes, why do you ask?" Francis gave a slight smirk.

"It's not a big deal really. I just want to know how does someone fall out of love?" He asked, looking at the Frenchman, the lovely violet mingling with the light blue.

"Why? Is Gilbert not treating you right? Honestly, if I were lucky enough to have someone as beautiful as you I'd make sure to take care of them." He leaned a bit closer to Roderich, whose cheeks went a bit pink.

"Y-you think I'm attractive?" The other replied shyly, a small smile on his face.

"Of course I do… Tell me, when was the last time Gilbert called you beautiful?" He asked, brushing his lips against the Austrian's.

"I don't remember…" He admitted, disappointed eyes staring at the ground. "I mean, he's not exactly the one to compliment anyone but himself… I'm not sure what's wrong with me, it's just the feelings I have for him aren't really romantic anymore."

"Then, why don't you end it? I don't want to see you so unhappy, it hurts. You're much too handsome to have a face tinged with depression." Francis told him, wrapping his arm around him.

"I don't know. I mean, I don't want to end it with him. I thought I was in love with him… But lately all he's proven to be is a bastard…" He let out a sigh, slumping down on the first step of the marble, spiral staircase.

"I've been friends with him for a while; I could have told you that." Francis joked, hoping to spark a laugh from the Austrian. "They can't help it, Roderich; it's a habit by now."

This time he had heard a small chuckle from the brunette. Roderich didn't laugh a lot, but when he did it was cute. He'd give a tiny smile and his laugh was elegant, but not snobby. "I know it is. But, now he doesn't even try not to be a bastard… I feel like now I'm just something there. Like, I'm just something he puts up with, almost as if he doesn't give a damn about me."

"Now, mon cheri, that's not entirely true." He started to twirl the dark chocolate hair of the Austrian's in his fingers. "I think one of the biggest reasons that relationships end is that they stop doing those special thing for you once they have you." Roderich looked into his eyes, and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks.

He shook off the blush and slumped back down. "Um, I need to go take care of something." He walked upstairs, all choked up.

Francis followed, trying to figure out what the heartbroken prodigy was doing. He was crying again, out of confusion and frustration. Francis knocked on the door, entering the room he was in.

Roderich looked up at him, crystal tears streaming down his beautifully pale face. Francis knelt down, and wiped off the tears with his sleeve. "Don't cry." He whispered, coming closer. He noticed Roderich leaning forward as well. They were close, much too close. He could see every tear beading on his eyelashes, rolling down his cheek. Next thing he knew, Roderich's lips came to his, and Francis felt something ripple up his spine.

"I'm sorry…" Roderich muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm sorry." Roderich murmured, not looking up at Francis. This was wrong… He had a boyfriend, or whatever one would call Gilbert. Yet, there was this feeling, a feeling that he hadn't shared with Gilbert for a while.

"Don't be," Francis replied, smiling. He had quite a charming smile, Roderich had to admit. It wasn't obnoxious, unlike Gilbert's.

Yet, no matter how wrong it was, he wanted to do it again. He wanted to kiss Francis again, although he had Gilbert. "I'm not sure what to do, though. I feel like I should tell Gilbert about this, but that would shatter the relationship we've been building for years. I feel like such a bastard now…" He sighed, his voice choked up.

Francis wrapped his arm around Roderich, stroking his dark hair. The Austrian let out another sigh and rested his head on the blonde, allowing the Frenchman to keep caressing him, with meaningless words and soft, yet monotonous touches. "It's okay," He asserted. "It will be okay, all of it will be okay." He kissed the top of his head, his thumb wiping away the watery beads forming along his pallid face.

"Stop it." He told Francis, his voice weak. "I know you're trying to help, but it's not working… Maybe I should just handle this myself. I just need to get myself together." He gave a fake smile, hiding behind that mask again. "It should be fine as long as I handle my composure."

Francis gave him a skeptical look. "You know I don't believe that." He gave him a small peck on the nose. "The only reason your poker face works on Gilbert is that he's too focused on other things to realize that it's all just a mask. You can't get anything past me, I can read your emotions, and see the words that you are so longing to say."

Francis lifted the Austrian's chin up and smiled, inching closer and closer to him, brushing his soft lips against the others. Violet eyes grew wide, and he opened his mouth as if to protest, but thought better of the idea. _He's so close to you… Kiss him, damn it! _He told himself. He crashed their lips together, kissing the Frenchman and feeling that clichéd spark once the blonde returned the action. The sensation filled his mind, the scent of the expensive French cologne, the softness of his blonde, wavy hair. All other thoughts and people cleared his mind; it was just him and Francis, as if no one else was in the world. It was so clichéd, like a terrible, teenage love story.

Roderich heard a knocking on the door, followed by the loud voice of Gilbert, wanting to come inside. "Verdammt, Gilbert… He's at the door!" He said, panicking.

"Okay, I'll jump out of the window into the bushes… Gilbert won't even know I was here." Francis smiled, giving a wink and climbing out the window. "Like Romeo did with Juliet, only no one will die." He blew a kiss and smiled, jumping into the bushes below.

Roderich sighed and walked to the door. "Hello Gilbert." Roderich gave a faux smile and mock joy at his boyfriend's appearance. "What brings you here?"

"Just decided to stop by," He smiled, giving a swift, meaningless kiss. "Besides, I like seeing you. You're being so formal, it's weird. Don't start going even more aristocratic than normal! Is it because of the sheet music? I'll admit, that wasn't a very awesome thing I did, and I'm sorry. I was being a total dick."

"At least you admit to it." Roderich laughed. "But, no it's not about the sheet music. I've just been… confused. I don't know what I'm doing, to be honest. I'm so lost."

"What do you mean by that?" Gilbert asked, just walking around the room, accidentally knocking down a picture of the two of them. Although, he saved it just before it hit the ground, catching it before it shattered to pieces.

"Nice catch there, if you broke that picture, I'd be infuriated." He told him. "That's an expensive frame, and a nice picture."

"Of course I caught it!" Gilbert chuckled, the haughty look in his fuchsia-red eyes turning softer and more loving. "I wouldn't let this picture fall. What would that say about me? If I broke a picture of the two of us, what would that say about our relationship? If they say a picture's worth a thousand words, and we kept on breaking pictures of the two of us—"

"Things would be much too silent." Roderich finished, astounded at Gilbert's sudden depth in his words. The albino smiled at him, pulling him closer.

"Exactly, and silence is too awkward. Besides, I don't know if I could be in a relationship without hearing your voice." _Give me a break! _Roderich rolled his eyes. _You seemed to manage in this relationship without hearing my voice! Or maybe you heard it, and just never decided to listen to me… _He didn't dare say the words aloud, no matter how much he wanted to.

He swallowed the insult. "What is with you today?" The Austrian asked. "You're acting overly romantic, are you drunk? I told you not to come over unless you're sober!"

"I'm not drunk, I've just realized how much I take for granted, and I don't appreciate you enough. I could lose you to someone else so easily, just because I've been treating you unfairly, as if you were just something there." Gilbert told him.

_He knows, did Francis tell him? If he was eavesdropping, I'll kill him! _"Why tell me this all of a sudden, why realize this now?" He asked.

Gilbert opened his mouth, as if to speak, but shut it again, something flooding in those eyes of his. "You…smell like him. You smell like that disgusting cologne he wears! And why is his jacket here?! I knew he meant something else, why else would he tell me you were unhappy? What's going on between you two?"

Roderich took a deep breath, deciding not to tell him the complete story. "I was feeling upset about what happened, and Francis stopped by and saw me upset, so I told him and when he came over today, to see how I was, he hugged me. He took off his jacket because he was hot inside the house, but must have forgotten to get it." He wasn't exactly lying to Gilbert, just not telling the story in its entirety. He prayed it would work, that Gilbert wouldn't find out this way, after he strived to change and cheer Roderich up.

"I'll believe you for now, but I'll be keeping close watch, I don't want to lose you to someone else." He kissed his cheek. He pulled away, slightly, the German's warm breath hovering over his mole, causing Roderich to shudder a bit. He smirked and pressed his lips against the other's, causing mixed feelings from the brunette.

There was emotion, a pleasant emotion, although not as pleasant as when Francis kissed him. Maybe it's because he was so used to it, so used to the feeling of Gilbert's touch, that it just seemed minor. Maybe it felt more than just a little jolt, but he was so accustomed to it, it wasn't anything special.

"I love you, Roderich, and I don't want to be that un-awesome bastard you let you get away." Gilbert smiled, his hands cupped around the Austrian's pale cheek, a finger 'accidentally' brushing that mole of his.

Roderich inhaled sharply. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," He warned him, starting to kiss the pale, light-haired man in order to distract him.

Gilbert smiled and easily took over the kiss, deepening it. He brushed his tongue against Roderich lips, in which he separated them, not exactly knowing why he did. He was about to break up with Gilbert, and now he was making out with him. What the hell was wrong with him?

He saw his dark blue trench coat hit the floor, and realized what Gilbert was doing. He looked at the phone, begging for a ring. The phone stayed silent, as Roderich saw his shirt being unbuttoned.

The Austrian pushed him away for a second. There was no alcohol smell on his breath, so he was sober. _For once, _he added to himself. He smiled at the German and came closer to him again.

He didn't know what came over his mind, but somehow he had winded up in the situation he was in. Maybe it was the way Gilbert came off serious, to show that he honestly loved him, or that the feeling had started to come back to him. Roderich had no thoughts about it when his satin shirt had touched the floor.

Roderich woke up and rolled over, seeing a (hopefully only) shirtless Gilbert next to him. _Let it just had been a dream; I didn't really sleep with him, did I? I hope not… _

He was half-dressed, that should be something, right? He looked at his schedule and started to write a note to Gilbert.

_Gilbert,_

_I have a piano rehearsal today, and had to leave before you finally woke up. Food is in the pantry; try not to eat me out of house and home. That would be greatly appreciated._

_-Roderich_

He left it on the kitchen table, and went back into his bedroom, getting dressed in his usual attire of a dress shirt and his tailored coat. He started walking to his lessons, due to the fact that they were only a few blocks from the building. It was around 10 minutes before he got there, looking at the empty room. Roderich always arrived earlier than needed, just so he could express his emotions freely for a few minutes. He sat down and started playing the opening notes to a song he knew.

"_I heard there was a sacred chord. _

_David played and pleased the Lord. _

_Well you don't really care for music, do ya?_"

He started to sing, letting the music wash his troubles away. The pianist played each note carefully, letting it fill his mind.

"_Well it goes like this, the fourth the fifth_

_The minor fall, the major lift_

_Baffle King composed Hallelujah. Hallelujah, Hallelujah._"

Roderich looked out the window, and thought he saw Francis there. _Must be a figment of my imagination… _He told himself, shrugging off the thought. He checked his pocket watch, whoever his partner was supposed to be, they were late.

The door opened and shut, revealing who his partner was. "Roderich, I didn't know I would be your partner… What a coincidence, right?" A thick French accent filled the silence, as he walked over and kissed both of Roderich's cheeks.

"Hello, Francis." Roderich replied, blushing faintly at the contact. _He wouldn't know about it, would he? Even if Gilbert would tell him, he's not awake yet. _"You're late."

"No, I'm not." Francis argued. "Rehearsal started at 9 o'clock. If I'm not mistaken, it's 9 o'clock. I'm always punctual."

"No you're not. Don't even try getting that past me." Roderich scoffed. "But still, I'd prefer if you'd get there 5 minutes early, so we could start at nine."

Francis smiled. "What would we be doing for five minutes?" He asked, giving a wink.

"We would be setting up everything and warming up our instruments and voices!" Roderich argued. "What else would we be doing?"

"Exactly that," He smiled. "I'm sure I could come up with many ways to warm up that voice of yours."

Roderich slapped his arm. "NOT in that way, you pervert!" The Austrian tried to hide a blush that was about to spread across his face. "Anyway, should we start practicing? The song," He added, now aware of the way Francis could twist words.

"That would be a good idea," The Frenchman smiled, sitting on the piano bench next to Roderich. He pulled out the sheet music, and handed it to his partner. "Read it over, I thought it would suit us both well. I mean, talent-wise."

He studied the music for a few minutes, and set it down, starting to play. The song was oddly familiar, although not from a place where you would expect to hear lovely music. He remembered hearing it at Alfred's Christmas party, but what exactly was it? "Wait… Isn't that from some video game? All I remember is hearing it at Alfred's dumb party. People were focused on what he was playing, although my mind went straight to the background music."

"At least I wasn't the only one who focused on the background." Francis smirked. "Sometimes what's in the background is the most beautiful thing of all." Francis's phone rang, and he rolled his light blue eyes.

"Well, aren't you going to get it?" He asked.

"Right," The Frenchman walked over and picked up the phone. "Hello? I told you. So it worked? Oh, well… That's great. No problem. I'm in the middle of something, good-bye." He hung up the phone, and let out a dejected sigh.

"What's wrong, Francis?" Roderich noticed that looked depressed. "Who was it?" He attempted to wrap an arm around him, but was pushed away.

"It was Gilbert." The blonde replied dryly. "He said he took my advice and it worked out perfectly."

"Damn it… I screwed up." Roderich bit his lip. "It's just he suspected me of cheating on him, and I didn't know what to do."

"So you break up with him!" Francis raised his voice. "You don't sleep with him! And, technically, you were cheating on him… But, it's all okay right, I mean to say, he's cheated on you before."

"What?" Roderich's indigo eyes started getting watery. "He has? How many times did he do it?"

"Yes, he has. I assumed you knew about it. Most of it was when he was drunk. He had a decent relationship with Matthew, before he figured out there was nothing valuable between the two of them. I thought you knew about it. I guess that just shows how much trust you two have." Francis shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess it does." Roderich stared down at his feet. "Which do you think is worse, falling in love with somebody else, or a one-night thing?"

Francis bit his lip, as if he were thinking before replying. "It's the latter. You can't help falling in love. It's not forced, and it never should be forced."

"I can see your point." Roderich glanced at Francis, and then back at the black and white piano keys. "Anyway, should we have a vocal song as well?"

"That would be a good idea." The blonde smiled. "I'd get another chance to hear your lovely singing voice."

"Okay, what song though? We need one with good, soft music, but meaningful lyrics as well." Roderich told him, searching his mind looking for the perfect song.

"How about we sing _Quelqu'un Ma Dit _by Carla Bruni? The lyrics are in French, but it's a beautiful song." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if he were listening to the song in his mind.

"Do you know the lyrics in any other language?" Roderich asked. "We might be able to do it half in French and half in German."

"Well, you speak French, right? You know at least the basics and how to pronounce the words, right?" Francis asked him.

"Well, yes, but…" Roderich started to protest, but gave up, due to knowing he wouldn't dissuade the Frenchman.

"Exactly, we can practice it next time. I think rehearsal time is over." The blonde stood up, kissing both of Roderich's cheeks. "I'll see you tomorrow. Promise me no more um, _physical_ contact with Gilbert."

Roderich's face flushed a bit as he gave a nervous chuckle. "I'm sorry about that, and you had to find out that way… It was a mistake; I swear!"

"It's alright," Francis winked one of his light blue eyes. "Besides, it's not like I'm going to stop you. It just you look so troubled, and if it was a mistake, it was a mistake. If not, then go ahead, I won't be offended."

The Austrian looked up and smiled. He was oddly forgiving. Roderich would have been infuriated had it been the other way around. He was upset with Gilbert for finding out he had cheated on him, no matter how long ago it was, he should have told him!

So the brunette started walking home as always, passing the familiar streets and alleyways. He walked past the one alley where he felt someone grab his arm. They held him against the concrete wall. A chuckle came from the attacker. It was feminine; it was a girl. "I warned you before, Roderich. I told you to stay away from Gilbert and Francis, not go after both of them. Do you not understand basic directions?"

She reached inside his pocket and pulled out his wallet, placing it her pocket. "You're going to hurt them. If you hurt them, I may just have to hurt you, my dear Roderich." She smirked, dropping him, and snapped her fingers.

"Who do you think you are?" Roderich coughed, gasping for air. "First of all, I'm not messing with Gilbert and Francis." He brushed off his coat. "Secondly, give me my wallet back. Third of all, who are you?"

She removed her hood, revealing long blonde hair and deep blue eyes. _Not only is she a girl, but she's a blonde, prissy girl stereotype. _Roderich hung his head in shame.

"Is there something wrong, pretty boy?" She sneered. She jerked her head to one side, as if beckoning someone else. Roderich tried to get out of her grasp, but the attempt was futile.

She whistled loudly again. Another girl, with tussled dark hair that dangled in her face and light blue eyes came, handing her a hockey stick. "Here ya go, Madeline." She laughed that chuckle you'd expect to hear from an evil genius.

"You gave me a hockey stick? What am I, Canadian?" She took the stick in her hands and twirled it. "Whatever, a weapon's a weapon."

"Wait, I thought you were Canadian. Whatever, it doesn't matter." The other girl shrugged. "What does matter is whatever this stuck-up bastard thinks he's doing with our Gilbert and Francis. If this aristocrat thinks he can get away with hurting them, he's got another thing coming."

Roderich gasped for air, and tried to escape, but once more her grasp was too tight. Whoever this chick was, she shouldn't be messed with. "I'm… not messing with them." He said. Madeline took the hockey stick and struck it.

"Don't lie… I told you I don't like people messing with my Gillie." She smirked, raising it again. All of a sudden, someone had grabbed her hand.

"Now, Madeline, didn't anyone ever tell you it's not polite to hit?" Roderich's eyes lit up as he saw the figure of his savior. It was Francis. He had come to his rescue. Madeline dropped the Austrian, causing him to scramble to his feet and rush to Francis's side and wrap his arms around him.

The blonde girl picked up her hockey stick and rushed towards him, causing the Frenchman to pick Roderich up bridal style.

"Honestly, Roderich," Francis panted while running. "Getting beat up by Madeline? I mean, at least Elizaveta's tough, but Madeline? Do you have a shred of dignity left?"

"Well, let's see, I was mugged by a prissy, blonde chick, needed you to save me and you're now carrying me as if I were a girl. Would you have any self-respect after that?" The Austrian rolled his violet eyes.

"I think I outran her." Francis set Roderich down on the sidewalk, where he brushed off his clothes. The Frenchman cupped his face. "You're hurt, we should get you home."

"I'm not hurt," Roderich lied, ignoring the slight stinging in his face.

"Yes you are," Francis slightly pursed his lips. "Your eye is black and swollen and your lips are bleeding." He kissed his cheek. "I should probably get you home."

Roderich noticed someone watching them, a happy expression on her face. "You and your boyfriend are so cute together, I couldn't help but notice~!" She giggled.

"He's not exactly my—" Roderich started to object, although stopped himself mid-sentence. It would be nice if it was true, but it was complicated, at best.

"It's okay," She smiled. "I see it in your eyes." The girl looked over her shoulder, some of her long, brown hair getting in his face. Another girl with jet-black hair stood there, calling her name. "I have to go, but it was nice talking to you! Don't be afraid of your true feelings, you two match well."

The Austrian had to run a bit to catch up with Francis. "Sorry about that, she just looks familiar. I couldn't help but talk to her."

"Understandable, but I think I should take you to rehearsal from now on, that way I know things like this won't happen." He grinned, kissing the brunette's nose. "That and I get to spend more time with you."

Roderich blushed a bit at the comment. "That's such a cheesy line." He rolled his eyes and walked up to the doorstep. He stepped inside with Francis following him.

"Where do you keep your medical supplies?" The blonde asked. "I want to treat that so it doesn't get worse. You're much too beautiful to get hurt by such inadequate girls."

"The closest one would be in the foyer closet." Roderich told him. "Who were those girls anyway? And why were they so obsessed with you and Gilbert?"

Francis pulled out the first-aid kit from the top shelf of the closet. "Just some of our fan-girls, we've been working on some music together with Antonio and the girls just can't help but adore us~!"

Roderich slapped his arm lightly. "Idiot, but I'd be scared if I had fans like that. How did they find out about it though?"

"Gilbert tweets everything." He took a rag and put some rubbing alcohol on it. "Now, this may sting a bit, but it'll help stop infection."

He applied it to his eye and the part of his lip that was cut. There was a slight sting, but nothing too painful. "He does? Gilbert can be such an idiot sometimes. How did they know about you though?"

"Stalkers will be stalkers." Francis shrugged. "There, you should be good now."

"Thank you." Roderich smiled. He leaned forward, kissing him.

"No problem." Francis grinned back. "No problem at all."


End file.
